Well, good morning. I woke up feeling somewhat concerned about the boy in my house. “Why, What?” you ask…just take a look at my family photo at the top of the blog. Do YOU see a boy in my family? I am pretty sure I would remember if someone had laid a baby boy in my arms, especially after wanting one so badly all 5 times I gave birth. His name would have been Ty Robert Moss, but he does not exist.

Then why does Bug tell me stories about her brother all the time? It first happened a few months ago when she woke me up early at my bedside. I told her it was time to get ready for preschool and she said very calmly, 

“My broder, say I no go to school today, we are going to da beach.” 

 I asked her repeat herself for obvious reasons and she said the same thing even more clear. I was speachless but managed to ask her when she saw her “broder”. She said, “Las night, las night, my broder came into my room and told me we are going to the beach today!” 

WHAT THE?!

Ever since then Halle has spoken of her “broder” to her teachers at school, her primary class, and friends. I have been getting random people come up to me to let me know they didn’t even know we had a son. Well, that would be because WE DON’T! I don’t know if it is wishful thinking or a imaginary friend because she is the youngest. Whatever the case, it freaks me out! I have watched one too many ghost movies I think, and I happen to believe in spirits. How can we believe that we go somewhere after we die, and deny the whole topic of spirits, pushing it away like a make believe thing? My family has had several experiences that others would probably call us crazy for. Luckily all of my stories but one was a confirmation of love from family that have passed on.

My favorite experience was with my Grandpa . I loved him more than anything and I consider him one of my hero’s. He died about 13 years ago right after Kinley was born. The last time I saw him we were at her baby blessing. He looked tired, but he was there at my parents home to support the blessing of his first great grand baby just the same. It’s too bad the Kinley was the only great grandchildren that he held. He died on December 23rd, 1997. I miss him so much it hurts. It is a lot better than it used to be, but there are times I feel him with us so strongly that it seems as though I could turn around and see him.

It happened about seven years ago. I watched the movie “Message in a Bottle” and fell asleep as usual. I was in the middle of a dream, the kind that doesn’t really make sense. I remember being in la la land, when all of a sudden the dream stopped. I was very aware and unsure of what was happening. I felt like I was awake because I could see my own body, but I knew I wasn’t. It was dark around me and I remember wondering what was going on. Out of nowhere I saw my Grandpa walking up to me. He was wearing one of his favorite shirts that he always wore. It was a light weight blue cotton with pin tucked detail running down the front. I was so shocked, but at the same time it felt so natural. I ran up to him and threw my arms around him. I remember feeling his body, it wasn’t airy like a dream. I pulled away and looked up into his face. He looked so happy and healthy and he had a glow about him. I thought in my mind *I would say, said, but it wasn’t like that*, “Grandpa! I am so excited to see you and I’ve missed you SO much!” I heard in my mind, “Janae, I am so proud of you and love you.” I was overwhelmed with emotion and started to cry. Not only did I tear up in my “dream” I was really crying. I could feel myself starting to wake up so I started crying harder because I didn’t want to leave him. I embraced him once again as I felt my body slipping. Slipping away from a man I looked up to and adore so much. My body started to shake from the extreme emotional impact until I lay awake in my bed. I was sweating and crying, full of so many feelings. I was ecstatic for “seeing” him, sad because I missed him so much, and mad at myself for not holding onto it longer.

I rolled over and woke up Jon to share what had just happened to me. He is a very heavy sleeper and mumbled, “That’s nice…” and drifted back to sleep! I had to share with someone so I called my dad at 2:30 a.m. He sputtered out, “That’s great honey…I’ll talk to you in the morning.” I knew I had to try one more time, so I called my brother Dave. Dave, the brother I thought I would never be friends with unless my mom and dad made me. Dave. I knew I could count on Dave. I let it ring a few times and was about to hang up when he answered. I let him know that nobody else was awake enough to talk. He sat and listened as I replayed the whole experience to him. He even had feedback though his half awake state. I don’t know how much of it he believed, but he listened.

Just as I didn’t expect Dave to believe me, I don’t expect you to believe me, and that’s o.k. Hopefully Halle feels the same way, because I am having a hard time believing her when she tells me that her “broder” is planning outings with her! What a silly girl.